HAPPY BIRTHDAY BOBBY

Sorry I'm late but as you have said:
But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

As you’re probably aware, we partied hearty for you at the MacGraham’s ahead of time, and there will be many more celebrations over the next several days. Have a good one. Here's some haggis for you.

Note to those with wee ones concerning haggis. “Because of the saturated fat and salt in haggis it's not desirable for children to have it more than once a week.”

THIS JUST IN-Cousin Jim’s Beloved just keeps the hits coming. This time it is one of discovery rather than creation, and a timely one it is. While searching the library for rare texts, she found a previously unknown and unpublished poem of the Bard’s. Being no fool, she got the Burns estate to give her a copyright, but she and the estate have given me the exclusive right to publish it. Read, enjoy, and learn.

MONSTER THINGUM

(This being the true and actual account of Laird Burns’
one and only encounter with modern technology.)

To the shops I took me self.
Spied the thing upon the shelf.
Rams it had and gigabyten.
Just the thing me needs for writin’.
Buy the thing, says I!

Oh what wondrous things it could do,
And for weeks I typed the day through.
Poems I wrote and ode to lousen
With the skill of that wee mousen.
Oh such delight had I!

And the wonders of the website!
There I wiled away each good night.
Got me feeling oh so sassy,
Specially those with fair young lassies.
Yes, oh yes, cried I!

Then sick it got with worm and virus.
Asked me self why did I buy this?
Spam I got and advertisin’,
So the thing I start despisin.
Fye on you, says I!

Then the monster turned upon me,
Like a ghost a man cannot see.
Password failure, windows crashin,
And “fatal error” message flashin.
Why oh why, yelled I!

And all my work... the monster ate it!
So I set me heart to hate it!
All the while me teeth be gnashin’,
Down the burn I sent it crashin!
Die you monster. Die!

Lads and lassies listen hard.
Take this wisdom from the Bard.
If it’s writin that you’ll be doin’,
With computers don’t be screwin.
Take pen in hand, says I!